“Do not come over uninvited, and I don’t give out my address to anyone else. Karen knows, and probably the club owner, but that’s all.”
“Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want all your secret girlfriends running into each other?”
He smiled fiendishly. “We’ll do this at my place next time. Say, have you seen that sexy Chitah lately?”
“Which one? We have a lot of Chitahs who visit the club.”
“Clyde. Tall bloke with the round arse. Simone says she heard he quit, but I refuse to believe it. Do you happen to know where he resides?”
“No idea. The last time I talked to him, he was complaining about people grabbing him. Maybe he had enough.”
Flynn pulled my plate toward him. “Bloody shame,” he said, holding up my last egg roll. “I would have liked to see what he had under those shorts.”
I clapped his shoulder. “Don’t you mean his bank account? See you around.”
“You cheeky little devil,” he murmured while munching on his egg roll.
As I passed the Chitah, I gave him a nod, hoping he didn’t smell my satchel full of money. He probably did, but what could he do? Bust me for being rich? Now I just needed to stay focused on what was about to go down tonight. Danger was on the menu, and while I’d eaten that six-course meal before, I’d always had some kind of preparation. Tonight I had no idea what awaited me.
I just hoped Keystone would be able to find a way in, or I might not be able to find a way out.
Chapter 26
On Friday nights, most people put on their best clothes and enjoyed food, drinks, and flirting. I had no idea what lay in store for me. Without knowing Audrey’s intentions, I worried that my evening would be filled with murder and mayhem.
Neither Audrey nor Pablo had specified a preferred arrival time, just that they expected me early evening. Instead of my usual club attire, I put on ripped jeans and a black tank top. Just in case they searched me, I stuffed a pair of fighting clothes into a plastic sack. This wasn’t the time to blow my cover. On a mission like this, I would have chosen sneakers, but the boots had the tracking device. If Pablo got the bright idea to shuttle me elsewhere, it would allow Keystone to follow me or change plans.
The back of the auction house had a white door with no knob and a loading dock next to it. There weren’t any lights on, so I stood in the shadows, pounding my fist against the door. After a minute or two, I began knocking to the tune of “We Will Rock You” by Queen.
Pablo opened the door and gave me a look of derision. “You need only knock once.”
I walked inside. “No one answered.”
He glared up at me. “We have motion sensors outside the door that alert me of movement and knocking. This is a large building. If you think I sit in a chair next to the door, you’re sadly mistaken. Next time once.” He held up one finger.
“Fine,” I grumbled, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time.
“What’s in the bag?”
“No one told me if this was just a meeting or something else. I brought a change of clothes.” I twirled the plastic bag around.
“Follow me, Miss White.”
Instead of escorting me to the elevators in the main room, Pablo turned right and stopped in front of a wide set of doors.
“This is our freight elevator,” he said, watching the doors open. “All fighters enter this way, never through the front.”
The elevator was longer and taller than any I’d been in before.
“Most of our items are small,” he continued. “Paintings, jewelry, maps, et cetera.”
“You really auction stuff? I thought it was your cover.”
He pressed the button to close the door. “We have to conduct a legitimate business. If the higher authority looks into our operation, we need proof of buyers and sellers. The storage rooms are upstairs, and every so often we receive large items like sculptures. Once we even acquired a four-poster bed from the fifteenth century.”
I snorted. “We have a furniture mart down the road that sells that stuff.”
Pablo clasped his hands in front of him, the light reflecting off his gold watch. “This one was carved from tree trunks. It was quite an ordeal to get it inside.”
The elevator shook as it moved down. Cognizant of the camera